Jealousy
by daydreamer and believer
Summary: Formerly a one-shot but taking on a life of its own. B/B fluff, of course. Slight spoiler alert. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first (albeit short) fanfic. I may add to it or it may stay a one-shot. I don't own Bones or any of the characters but I'd sure like to play with Booth a little.**

Earlier he'd taken a call and walked away from her for the conversation. He'd been doing that a lot lately since he'd met that woman. She was starting to think they might be getting serious. He hadn't been able to have drinks or dinner with her in weeks and their lunches were getting more infrequent. In fact, he'd been behaving strangely all the way around. She mused at herself for describing Booth as strange – she'd always thought he was a bit strange, with his quirky habits and archetypal belief system – but she had to admit, she'd grown to like his "strange." She'd thought, albeit briefly, today that he was back to normal – back to his "strange" – but then it passed when he took that call. It was only logical to think they were likely making plans for the evening. He'd probably told her that they finally wrapped up the last of the loose ends on the case they'd been busy on and now he was free for another date. She shivered when she thought that last word. An involuntary and purely unrelated physiological response – it's probably just colder in here than she thought.

Suddenly she felt something brush her arm and looked to see Angela eyeing her curiously. Then Angela glanced toward Booth who was chatting about the case result with Cam a few feet away, then back at her. It occurred to her that she must have been staring at Booth while lost in her little revelry. Better to not acknowledge it at all that to get Angela riled up on the issue she thought. She looked back at Angela as blankly as she could manage then simply walked off the platform into her office.

She grabbed her cell phone from her desk and dialed the number without a second thought.

"AD Hacker," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello Andrew, it's Temperance."

"Temperance, so good to hear from you. I heard about the case, great job as usual –."

She interrupted, "Thank you Andrew. That's what prompted me to call you actually."

"Oh," he responded. There was a definite disappointment in his voice. She just wanted to talk about work, he thought.

"Yes," she said, noting the disappointment but choosing to carry on. "It seems my evening is no longer tied up reviewing evidence. I was wondering if you'd like to meet for dinner."

"Absolutely," he said rather exuberantly.

She internalized a chuckle at his excitement. "Great," she said, "do you have any suggestions or preferences as to where we should meet?"

"Temperance," he said, a little calmer now, "why don't you let me pick you up, then we can decide together?" He tried to gently suggest this. She never seemed to want him to pick her up, not from her apartment and certainly not from the lab.

She shivered again – it must be really cold in here, she thought.

"Well," she hesitated, "I have a few things to finish up here …."

He could hear the hesitation and was afraid she might change her mind altogether. "Eh em, yes, I have a few things to finish up as well," he backtracked. "Why don't I check on a reservation at a quaint spot I know of and call you back shortly with the details?"

She appreciated his acquiescence. "Thank you, Andrew, that sounds lovely."

As she ended the call, she turned around to see Booth leaning against the doorframe facing into her office. He'd apparently been listening in.

"Oh, Booth, you startled me. I'd presumed you'd gone for the night," she said a little more coolly than she'd intended.

He stepped into the office fully, not taking his eyes off her, and asked, "Why would I leave without you?"

Her head snapped up, a little more quickly than she'd intended and, as she tried to regain her coolness, he said, "I thought we'd go get dinner and drinks since the case is – ."

"I have plans," she cut him off.

"Yeah, I heard," he mumbled, mostly to himself, though she heard him clearly. She forced herself to continue looking at the papers she'd been fidgeting with on the desk in front of her. "I just thought, you know, we'd celebrate," he said, defeated.

"I presumed you'd be celebrating with Catherine," she remarked. There was a definite edge to her voice and the name "Catherine" was inadvertently emphasized. Ugh, she mentally groaned, Booth will have caught that.

What was that in her voice, he thought. "What do you mean?" he asked, purposefully steadying himself in as relaxed a manner as he could muster. Don't be coy, he thought to himself, she may not pick up on much, but she knows when you're trying to play innocent.

She almost called his bluff but thought the better of it. "I wasn't aware you were anticipating eating with me tonight; you haven't been available very much recently." She was certain there was no edge in her voice this time. No – completely calm, cool and – whatever they say goes with that. He wouldn't famously "read" anything into that. "Now, I really should be going," she finished.

He stood, almost gawking at her for a moment, then in disbelief, almost shouted, "You sound jealous!"

"Ha!" she responded flippantly, attempting to dismiss him.

But he just stepped slightly closer to her and in a lower tone, asked, "Are you?"

She couldn't even look at him. "Jealousy is an irrational reaction to an absurd emotional delusion," she stated, though with less finality than she'd planned. She cupped her hand over her phone on the corner of the desk to pick it up.

He moved closer and placed his hand on top of hers, stopping it from moving. He tilted his head to one side to try to reach her downturned eyes with his, his breath now heavy on the bridge of her nose, and in a barely audible whisper asked, "Bones, are you jealous?"

She raised her head slightly and their eyes met. That was a mistake. Her heart was nearly escaping her chest with every beat, though she knew that wasn't actually physically possible. His breathing quickened when her eyes reached his. The longer he held her gaze, the shallower his breaths were.

She felt as though she couldn't speak, that if she tried to all that would escape her lips would be a betraying moan.

He was sure he couldn't move, that if he tried he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from taking her into his arms where she belonged.

They remained frozen for seconds that seemed like ages when her phone rang again under their cupped hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I was pleasantly surprised to receive them. Here's a little more for now. Again, I do not own Bones or any of the characters.**

She awoke in a startled state. What was that noise – that wasn't my alarm, she thought. Glancing at her bedside table she noted the time: 7:06 a.m. She swore aloud. Kicking the covers from her feet, she heard the noise again – it sounded as though someone was trying to break down her door. Hmph, wonder who that could be, she thought sarcastically to herself. She stumbled from the bed toward the door and swung it open without even peeping through the eyehole and somewhat demanded, "What?"

"Well, mornin' to you, too, Bones" he said as he lifted his downturned head to look at her. "Whoa, late night?" he asked, grin fading as he took in her appearance: disheveled hair, tank clinging dangerously too close to her skin and shorts that could have easily been mistaken for a pair of his own boxers. She was breathtaking.

As much as he was enjoying the view, he suddenly couldn't breathe, with the thought occurring to him that her late night might not be over yet – that she might not be alone. Cursing himself for not calling first, then thinking twice about that and becoming decidedly glad that he'd interrupted whatever may have been still going on, he held up 2 cups of coffee and said "I thought you might want to grab breakfast at the diner this morning."

She'd realized her suggestive appearance when she noticed him gasp a little and had crossed her arms over her chest and moved to the side for him to enter the apartment.

"I … uh, overslept … give me 20 minutes?" she questioned, not wanting to pass on a chance meal with him.

He nodded and walked by her to plant himself on the couch. She inhaled his scent subconsciously as he passed.

When she disappeared into the bedroom, he stood and paced, took a swig of coffee, cursed at burning his tongue, sat down again for a moment, then repeated the process several times all the while obsessing over every second after she'd left him standing in her office yesterday.

He'd been stunned when she slipped her hand, and phone, from under his and answered it while walking out of her office without looking back. He'd been certain that she felt what he felt for that brief moment when they stood there in each other's space. He could feel her breath on his chin and neck when she was looking at him and would have sworn that a small moan escaped her soft lips. But then she just walked away. Walked away from him and to her date with Hacker. The mere thought of that name was accompanied by an involuntary grimace as though he were thinking the name through gritted teeth. She should have been having dinner with him, should have been on a date with him, should have overslept because of him … with him …. He shook his head rather violently as if trying to forcibly evict the train of thought from his brain.

When she emerged from the bedroom, she witnessed Booth shaking his head determinedly and flashbacked to his tumor-induced hallucinatory days. She was immediately standing beside him (had she run?), her hands on each of his upper arms and turning him to face her.

"Booth, are you okay?" she asked with urgency.

Her panic startled him back to reality. "Wh- Bones, yeah, I'm fine."

She dropped her hands, suddenly embarrassed and he noticed a definitive change in temperature.

"I thought – you seemed to be arguing with some- … with yourself." She said, sheepishly. Oh, he got it now.

"Nah, Bones, I'm fine. I was just thinking about something and … I … got lost in thought."

"I don't know what that means," she said, turning toward the door.

He chuckled, watching her walk before him. He didn't mind watching her walk away – in fact, he liked it – as long as they were going to the same place, together.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed and to those who favorited the story or me! You guys keep me going. As always, I don't own Bones. :)**

It was a quarter to 7 and most everyone had filed out of the lab for the night, yet he knew there'd still be a glow bouncing off the reflective surfaces making its way from the other side of the platform to the glass entry way. Nevertheless, he smiled slightly when he rounded the platform and could see her still sitting at her desk, back to the office door, apparently intently pondering whatever was on the computer screen in front of her.

She knew he was there before he fully reached the office doorway because she could smell his cologne. Still? She thought. This late in the day? Wonder if he added a little on the ride over? She dismissed that thought and quickly tried to resume her contemplative look focusing on something other than the aroma of his skin.

He tapped the door as he entered, "Hey Bones, you hungry?"

She turned in her chair to face him, unable to hide the small smile that had crept onto her lips. She didn't know what had happened to suddenly make him available for all meals with her again, but she was undeniably happy about it.

He noticed the corner of her lips turn upward and was pleased he'd been the cause of that. Walking fully into the room, he stopped beside her desk. "What do you say we get out of here and go paint the town?" He flashed her a smile. How could she resist?

She looked down quickly, "Why would be paint the town, Booth? And what exactly would that entail? Buildings? Streets? Because, honestly, it's been a long day and I'm really quite tired."

"No, Bones, it's just" but he stopped short when he caught a glimpse of the more definite smirk she was holding steady while pretending to read the paper before her. "Ahhhh ha ha," he said with a chuckle and shaking a knowing finger at her. "Aren't you so funny?"

She let out a giggle without meaning to as she looked at him and then cleared her throat to regain some semblance of composure. "Actually, I'm not ready to leave; I've got a bit more work to finish up tonight."

Visibly taken aback by her excuse and wondering if she already had dinner plans that she didn't want to discuss with him, he walked over, plopped himself down on the couch in her office and said, "That's alright, I can wait for you."

"Booth, don't be ridiculous. I don't know how much longer I'll be," she said, knowing that she'd been nearly done for awhile but curious as to why he suddenly had time to wait on her.

"No problem, Bones, I'm a patient man." He said flashing a smile her way again.

"Hmph," she huffed without meaning it to be audible and his head snapped in her direction. He decided not to press it.

"Besides, I drove you this morning, remember?"

Of course she remembered. She'd spent the car ride to the diner, through breakfast and drive to the lab trying to both ascertain why he wasn't having breakfast with a certain other woman and how to nonchalantly inform him she'd canceled her date the night before. By the time she stepped out of the vehicle in front of the lab, she'd accomplished neither goal.

"Of course, I recall that Booth. But I am capable of taking a cab." She ignored his wave of dismissal and continued, "Besides, I would think you'd have large plans tonight, after all it is Friday."

He was shaking his head at her. "It's _big_ plans, Bones, BIG plans and … I don't."

She was intrigued but wasn't quite sure how to skillfully press on. "No date?" she blurted out, avoiding his eyes and turning back toward her computer. He smiled as he watched her.

"Nope, no date. You?"

She glanced up at him, he was standing beside her desk again – when did he do that? – "No, no plans, either. I'll probably just go home and work on my latest novel again … … like I did last night." She was pleased with herself for slipping the last part in there and hoped she could count on him to catch it.

"Oh," he said, watching her.

She forced herself to continue looking at the computer screen. Oh? She thought. That's it? Oh? She'd been certain he was not pleased when he'd overheard her making plans with Andrew. Now, when she essentially tells him that she didn't carry through with those plans, all he can say is oh? Maybe he hadn't caught it after all.

But then her chair spun and he was squatted in front of her, having pulled her around with one hand on the chair arm while his other steadied on the desk. She was effectively blocked in her seat looking down into his dark brown eyes as he said, "Come on, Bones, have dinner with me."

She tilted her head slightly, evaluating the soft tone in what seemed to be a genuine dinner invitation, a date. Just as she opened her mouth to call him out, he lowered his entire face from her view and whispered so hushed she almost missed it, "please."

She closed her mouth into a small smile and reached across his steadied hand, leaning slightly forward toward him in the process, to retrieve her purse.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, this chapter's really short but I felt it necessary to cover the "date." Thanks to everyone who keeps reading/reviewing/marking as favorite etc - y'all are awesome!!! Oh, yeah, I don't own Bones.**

They rode to dinner in a comfortable silence. He'd driven to a Thai place, but not the one they normally just got take out from. He even valeted, handing over the reins of the vehicle only he drove to the parking attendant before joining her to enter the restaurant. She'd considered pointing out that it was inconsistent to allow a perfect stranger to drive his FBI standard-issue SUV when he refused to let her do so, but the thought slipped her mind when his hand found its home gently resting against her lower back.

They were seated immediately and quietly began perusing the menu though they each already knew what they wanted. He was the first to relinquish his leather-bound shield but she quickly followed suit. For a few moments, neither spoke, darting glances from the place settings to the lit candles adorning each table to each other eyes and back around again. Just as his lips parted to speak, his cell phone rang. As he leaned back slightly to reach into his pants pocket for the phone, he said sheepishly, "I meant to turn it off, sorry."

She was saying, "That's okay," when he looked at the number IDed on the screen and grimaced before sliding back from the table, flipping the phone open and holding a finger indicating "one minute" up to her.

The waitress, who seemingly appeared out of thin air, said "What will you be having to drink this evening?" Bones didn't respond. Instead she was staring at Booth, or rather at the path he'd walked away from her and out the restaurant door. Her chest felt tight and her stomach acidic.

"Ma'am?" the waitress repeated, bringing Bones' back to the world surrounding her.

"Nothing," Bones declared softly, and then continued, "I'm sorry, there's been a mistake." She quickly rose and left the restaurant intent on walking to the curb and hailing a cab to take her home as fast as mechanically possible.

Booth, who was still listening to the person on the other end of the line, saw Bones flee and felt a sharp pain in his chest all at once. He was saying "Uh huh … yes, I see … certainly," as he half-jogged to catch Bones at the street.

When he reached her, he said to the caller, "Could you hold on just a sec?" Covering the phone with his hand he said exasperatedly, "Bones, what's wrong, where are you going?"

She wouldn't even look at him, but from the profile view he had, he could have sworn the corners of her eyes were glistening.

"I'm sorry, Booth, I just need to go home. Don't worry, I can get there on my own."

Still holding the phone with one hand and covering the mouthpiece with the other, he stepped in front of her person, partly to make her look at him and partly to stop her from stepping out further to attract a cab. She looked pale but calm and intentionally detached from him, though he did see her glance again at the phone in his hand.

He held it up and said, "We've got a case." She suddenly felt juvenile and realized she probably sounded so as well when a very exaggerated "oh" escaped her lips.

He pretended not to notice and continued, "Remains down in Richmond. Let's get the car and I'll give you the details on the way, okay?" She just nodded, not sure she was able to speak just yet. He put the phone back to his ear and turned toward the valet stand. As she watched him walk away, she heard him say, "Yeah, we're on the way."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: We're getting there. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! I soooo wish I owned Bones, but alas, I do not.**

The drive took about 2 hours but felt more like 10 to both of them. The time passed slowly in between discussions about what had been found in Maymont Park on the river and the uncomfortable silences. Occasionally, he would glance toward her during those silences, mustering up the gumption to say something, but thinking twice when he'd see her eyes closed and her face turned toward the window.

When they finally arrived, the park was lit up like a ballpark, full of large spotlights and about a dozen local PD officers, mixed in with the FBI forensics team that had just beat them there, walking the perimeter of a taped off area. She exited the vehicle in silence and rounded to the back to slip into her jumpsuit and gloves. She glanced back only momentarily before heading to her chore to see him moving right to work as well.

He made his rounds talking to many of the officers and gathering as much information as he could about the individuals who'd reported discovering the body. Finally he made his way to just outside the taped area and paused briefly to watch her in concentration. When she stood up from her crouched position and removed her gloves, he spoke.

"So, what do we got, Bones?"

"Male, 18-25, still evidence of flesh around the torso area and some on the extremities. We'll need samples for Hodgins from the entire area." She walked past him back toward the vehicle.

After he'd made sure all instructions were set on getting the remains back to the lab, he joined her in the car.

"Local sheriff got us a room so we can talk to the folks who found the body in the morning," he said, starting the engine.

"_A_ room?" she asked, emphasizing the singularity in an almost disgusted tone. She heard the tone in her voice and wished it hadn't come out that way. They slept in the same room on many occasions; why should tonight be any different, she thought.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of her reaction. "Sheriff said it was all he could get this late." He paused and then added, "It's a double." He glanced her way but when she didn't say anything or even look his way, he just put the vehicle in drive and started towards the motel.

He stopped at the office to pick up the key and then drove around to the room. Neither said anything as they parked and entered the room.

As he flipped the TV on and plopped down on the end of one of the beds, she said, "Do you need the bathroom right now?"

He looked her way but she wasn't looking at him so he just said, "No, you go ahead."

She walked into the bathroom, shut the door and he distinctly heard her twist the lock. She was in there for quite awhile, so long in fact he thought about calling out to check on her a few times but thought the better of it. He was really tired, from the drive, from the tension, so he decided to go ahead to bed.

He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, draping his jacket, shirt and pants across the back of the chair next to his bed so that he could retrieve them easily in the morning. He thought it'd probably be more comfortable in boxers only but didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

She'd been hanging out in the bathroom, feeling like a child and hoping he'd fall asleep before she emerged. She'd stripped down to her camisole and panties, hanging the rest of her clothing on the back of the bathroom door for the morning.

When she didn't hear the TV anymore and couldn't see any light seeping under the door, she decided it safe to exit, intent on carefully and quietly getting under the covers in the empty bed without disturbing her roommate.

She flipped the light off and opened the bathroom door to total darkness. Just as she stepped over the threshold, a lamp switched on. He'd heard her open the door and didn't want her to trip in the darkness, so he reached up to turn the bedside lamp on.

When he saw her, she froze. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with her, fighting the urge to let his eyes drift down to where her beautiful skin was exposed.

She said quietly, "I thought you were asleep," and quickly moved to the empty bed and climbed under the covers. He watched her intently, aching with disappointment when she was covered. He reached back up and flipped the lamp off.

They lay there for awhile in their separate beds in the pitch black and silence.

Finally, though he wasn't sure if she'd drifted off or not, he couldn't help himself anymore. "Bones?" he asked quietly. She laid there staring into the darkness but didn't answer.

"Why were you running away?" he asked aloud, though mostly to himself as he wasn't expecting an answer.

"I wasn't running away," she said and he jumped a little. He waited for further explanation, though he knew already that she wouldn't willingly offer any.

"Well, why were you leaving then?" he asked turning to face her though all he could see was the blackness of night. Silence.

"Bones?" This time though he knew she hadn't fallen asleep.

"I thought you might be … changing your plans." She said quietly.

"What? What are you talking about?" He was thoroughly confused. Nothing but silence.

"Why would I change my plans?" he asked. Silence.

"Bones? Come on, talk to me." His voice was softer.

She sighed heavily. "I thought perhaps she had called you and you'd want to meet up with her," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"Who? … What? …" But then it dawned on him like a floodlight through the pitch black room. "You thought I was talking to Cathy?"

She cringed quietly at the name rolling off his tongue and did not respond.

He sat up and switched on the lamp on the table between them. She tightened her eyes shut in response to the sudden flood of light.

He was staring at her, questioning her with his eyes. She could feel him looking at her, even with her eyes squeezed shut. Neither spoke for a few moments.

Finally, he started, "I don't … Why would …" he sighed with resignation.

She interrupted, "You only walk away from me when she calls." She said this as if she were saying the sky was blue. "I logically concluded she'd called you and you'd left the table to make arrangements to meet." With that, she rolled away from him and tightened the covers around her shoulder.

"You logically concluded?" he repeated flabbergasted. "You jumped to conclusions is what you did!" he said, with his voice slightly raised.

She turned back over quickly and said, fiercely, "I do no such thing!"

She was glaring at him and he knew she was angry, though he thought that anger might be more aimed at herself than at him.

"Well, you logically concluded wrong. It was for a case." He said, sounding rougher than he'd wanted. "I only walked away because the waitress was coming." He said more softly and looked down.

She felt ridiculous again for getting so angry and began internally lecturing herself for her not controlling her emotions more capably throughout the entire evening. She let out a heavy sigh and rolled back away from him, closing her eyes and hoping to finally bring this dreadful night to an end.

He copied her sigh and switched off the lamp. Once settled quietly in the dark again, he whispered faintly, "Besides, I'm not seeing her anymore."

In the bed next to him, eyes flew open staring into the darkness before slowly focusing on the tiny beam of moonlight suddenly visible through the cracked curtains.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Almost there, I promise! Thanks for all the kinds words, for still reading and still reviewing! Oh, yeah - I don't own Bones.**

The next morning neither of them spoke about the night before, or the day for that matter, though the air surrounding them seemed much lighter.

After a visit to the folks who'd discovered the body, they headed back to D.C. He dropped her off at her place before going to his so they could shower and change for the day. Once she was back at the lab, she didn't hear from him again until the end of the day, when he joined her on the platform, announcing his arrival with a loud clap of his hands, and saying "Come on, Bones, time to eat."

The next few weeks went on much the same way. They were heavy into the case and spending every meal, and every other waking moment when not working their separate aspects of the evidence, together. She was starting to think everything was going to be back to normal and, while she had to admit there was an emptiness she couldn't explain, she was content to be comfortable with him again. Perhaps he felt the same; perhaps that was why neither brought up what happened the night they went to Richmond.

There were so many times he wanted to bring up their potential "us" but believed that she was intentionally avoiding the subject so he resolved to not push her. Maybe she'd had time to consider it and had decided against that "us."

It was a few days after they'd wrapped up the case, when they were sitting at lunch in the diner, that the possibility of avoiding that conversation became an exercise in futility.

Their conversation had been light, discussing his plans with Parker for the upcoming weekend, when she noticed a definite change in his demeanor. She followed his gaze, turning slightly in her chair to see Hacker standing at the counter, apparently picking up lunch for himself. Hacker turned at that exact moment and their eyes met. She smiled and turned back to Booth, but he was just looking down at his empty water glass. Then, Hacker was standing beside the table.

"Temperance," he said with a nod. "Agent Booth."

"Hello, Andrew," she said pleasantly. Booth said nothing, still glaring at his glass.

Hacker noticed Booth's silence but was more interested in Bones. "Temperance, I was hoping we could finally cash in that rain check now that you've got a break in your schedule."

Bones was watching Booth carefully and only became aware of Hacker's intent when Booth shifted suddenly in his seat.

"Oh, um, Andrew. Well, I've actually got several other matters to catch up on right now." She glanced to him then inadvertently back to Booth. She did not want to have this conversation right now. Hacker noticed her anxiousness and wished he hadn't noticed each time her eyes gazed upon her lunch companion.

"I see," he said. "Well, perhaps we could just talk later."

She smiled up at him and nodded. He seemed to be appeased by her smile and nodded back at her. "Agent Booth." He said with finality before walking away.

The silence at the table continued, though Booth raised his head to watch Hacker exit and cross the street outside.

"Why'd you do that?" he said, rather abruptly, looking straight at Bones.

"Why did I do what?" she asked, maintaining his stare.

He huffed and chuckled nervously, "You know what."

She smiled, "Why did I acknowledge your boss' presence while you bore a hole into your glass with your glare? Is that the 'what' to which you're referring?" she questioned, her sarcastic tone thicker than usual.

He shook his head, exasperated, looking back down at the table, "Why didn't you 'cash in'?" he asked quietly.

"I have a lot to do, just as I said." She stated matter-of-factly.

Now it was his turn to smile. Meeting her gaze again, he said, "You were just telling me how you might actually take the whole weekend off for the first time in ages."

She hesitated, this time her turn to break their eye contact, "Um, yes, well, I do need to catch up on some writing."

"Bones." He said her name as an admonishment; he'd known she was lying and he wasn't letting it go.

She huffed, rolled her eyes, and then sighed, as if accepting defeat. He smiled. Then she snapped her head up to face him again and asked, "Why aren't you seeing Cathy anymore?"

She'd caught him off guard. He'd thought he'd gotten her and then she threw that out at him.

"I .. wh- …," he stammered.

It was her turn to smile again. He saw the gleam in her eyes and that was all it took. She had him and there was no denying it any longer.

"She wasn't you." He said looking directly into her eyes again. His voice was soft but strong when he said it; there was no hesitation and no surprise. It was an absolute truth and the implication was as clear as the blue sky.

She did not look away, or blush, or hesitate; she simply responded with one word, "Precisely."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ah, we're finally at an end - a little bittersweet. It's short but hopefully poignant. I upped the rating a bit just to be safe. Thanks for reading along and reviewing and favoriting/alerting. Last time for this one saying I don't own Bones, but I'd sure like to take the namesake's place for this moment! Hope you enjoy!**

When he dropped her back at the lab after lunch they exchanged what outwardly appeared as no more than a smile, though if pressed they both would have admitted to a bit of euphoria.

They spoke only once by phone the rest of the day, around mid-afternoon, when he called to ask how late she planned to work. The conversation was short and friendly but nothing deeper. Nevertheless, when it ended, she couldn't help but smile.

That evening, she'd been home less than 20 minutes, when he knocked on the door. She opened the door to greet him and he held up take-out bags from their favorite place. She smiled and stepped aside, gesturing him in. He walked by her, slowly and quietly, to set the bags on the kitchen table. She inhaled his scent as she so often did.

She moved into the kitchen after him, still neither saying a word. He began unpacking the food from the bags. She walked to the counter and opened a cabinet before her; resting one hand on the countertop to steady herself, she stretched with her other arm to reach 2 glasses on a higher shelf. She thought tonight called for wine.

Then he was behind her, one hand steady on her hip and the other arm reaching past hers to the glasses with ease. As he took the stems of 2 between his fingers and began to retreat, she turned so that she was pressed between him and the counter, her extended arm now resting on his bicep. His hand slid with her movement from her hip to her back to her other hip and he sat the glasses down on the countertop behind her, leaving his hand resting near them. She slid her free hand inside his suit jacket to his waist, ever so slightly clinging to his tucked-in dress shirt. They held each other's gaze in silence for a few moments, each breath a little heavier with passing seconds. Finally, he spoke, leaning in toward her even closer, so that with each whispered word she could feel his breath on her own lips.

"I'm going to kiss you now and I'm not going to stop. Ever. Are you okay with that?"

"Mmm" she breathed, biting in her bottom lip and watching his lips intently.

"This means no more Hackers and no more Cathys and no more anybody elses. Okay?"

"Mmm" she repeated.

"Just you and me, like it's supposed to be."

"Just you and me," she whispered. She moved her hand from his bicep and pulled on his tie just as she gripped his shirt more fiercely in her other hand.

As he moaned her name quietly, she pulled him the remaining inch to her until their lips met. Almost instantly, each mouth parted and the two became one.


End file.
